


What happens in the Gryffindorm stays in the Gryffindorm

by BloodyFlammable



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Crack, M/M, Roleplay, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-26
Updated: 2017-03-04
Packaged: 2018-09-27 00:33:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9941366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BloodyFlammable/pseuds/BloodyFlammable
Summary: Harry froze, his wand raised. It was Dean’s voice. But why was it coming from Seamus’ bed?In which Seamus and Dean are doing weird things and Harry watches. For the sake of knowledge.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Drakey](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Drakey/gifts).



“H-Harry.”

Harry woke up with a start. He pricked up his ears. He could hear Ron’s loud snoring at his left. There were some heavy breathing somewhere in the room, and Harry wondered which one of his housemates was having a nightmare. The breathing was fast, as if the person was panting after a run, and sometimes cut with a gasp.

No one called Harry’s name again, so he came to the conclusion that it had been all in his head. It wasn’t the first time and it certainly wouldn’t be the last.

He closed his eyes and cleared his mind, trying to make it blank and empty, feeling the familiar wave of the incoming sleep.

“Oh, Harry.”

Harry jerked, startled.

It couldn’t have been a product of his imagination. Someone had well and truly called his name, this time.

He sat up straight, frowning. Ron was still sleeping, Harry could tell from the snoring, and he seemed as though the heavy breathing from earlier had gone even louder.

He had no time to wonder what could possibly be happening because someone said – _yelped!_ – his name again.

_Someone was in danger!_

His reflexes took over from then. He quickly grabbed his wand under his pillow, accioed his glasses and got up on his feet. He yanked his curtains open and scanned the room, wand raised. He cast a quiet Lumos to get a better look at his surroundings.

The round room looked as normal as you could expect it to be at two in the morning. The rays of moonlight were lightening the dorm in a soft dim. Every four-poster was closed. Ron was obviously still fast asleep, as far as Harry could tell from to the snoring. Harry couldn’t hear anything coming from Neville’s and Dean’s beds, but it seemed as though Seamus was the one having a hard time. Harry could hear his mattress squeak as he probably turned in his sleep.

All in all, everything looked completely normal, and Harry was an idiot for having thought otherwise.

Harry lowered his wand and shook his head in disbelief. He hadn’t slept very well the nights before, and his brain always played tricks on him when he was tired. He wasn’t going to wake each of his dormmates to be sure they were alright, now, was he? He turned toward his four-poster bed, determined to get to sleep as soon as possible.

“Come, Harry.”

Harry froze. It was Dean’s voice. _But why was it coming from Seamus’ bed?_

Fearing the worst, Harry ran towards Seamus’s bed, wand raised and ready, and opened the curtains.

What he saw in here, though, wasn’t what he had been prepared for.

Dean, naked under the waist, was kneeling between Seamus’ legs. As for Seamus, he was lying on his back, his knees up and as bare as Harry’s Potion’s essay due to Monday. He had his head tilt back and was panting and... Why the hell was he wearing Harry’s spare glasses, and what was this thing on his forehead?

After a few seconds, Harry came to the conclusion that no one was attacking anyone, although he couldn’t tell for sure that Seamus’ penis was safe, deeply stuck in Dean’s throat.

Dean was apparently sucking hard, according to the sounds his mouth was making, broken every now and then by a heated moan. Seamus, on the other hand, managed to make no sound at all, and Harry felt a new sort of respect for his friend.

At first, Harry had thought Dean had been stroking Seamus’ testes, but when he gave a better look at it, he saw that Dean’s hand was in fact buried between Seamus’ cheeks. His wrist was moving slowly, his fingers disappearing Godric knows where. Harry thought that maybe he was seeing things wrong, because that made no sense at all. Why would he be sticking his fingers _there_?

Dean moaned around Seamus’ erection, making the shorter man moan as well. He started to move his hips, rubbing his groin against the sheets in an awkward movement. Harry could see the muscles of his round butt tensing with each thrust. As for Seamus, he was breathing fast, the muscles of his stomach clenching at each breath, his hand fisting Dean’s frizzy hair.

Harry vaguely wondered why Dean was sucking his best friend in the middle of the night. He was also curious about _whatever_ Dean was doing with his fingers.  He also wanted to know if they did that often and there was this thing about Seamus wearing Harry’s spare glasses. But mostly he was puzzled over the fact that he was obviously turned on by the sight of his friends having sex – because that’s what it was, right? Sex.

He didn’t know how long he stayed here, staring at the incredible scene before him, gaping.  He couldn’t resolve to moving. Seamus seemed impressively resistant, and Harry wanted to know if Dean was going to make Seamus come by sucking him or if he had something else in mind. What that something else could be, Harry had no clue.

All of a sudden, Dean let go of Seamus' rod, allowing Harry to a proper look. He had seen his share of penises in the common bathrooms, but it was the first time he saw an erect penis aside from his own. He felt vaguely guilty about looking at such an intimate thing, so he tore his eyes off Seamus’ bone to look at his other friend. Dean had opened his eyes and seemed focused on whatever he was doing with his fingers. He wondered how Dean could not see him, standing a few feet away behind the slightly opened curtains, but Dean seemed captivated by the movement of Seamus’ chest. And honestly, Harry couldn’t blame him.

Then, to Harry’s utter astonishment, Dean said, “Cum for me, Harry,” in a husky groan.

Harry jerked, sure he had been detected, but Dean wasn’t looking at him. He was still staring at Seamus, working his fingers in him.

Seamus, who was wearing round glasses.

Seamus, who had an odd line drawn on his forehead.

Seamus, who didn’t seem to take offense at being called _Harry_.

That’s when Harry lost what was left of his common sense.

As Dean resumed the sucking, still grinding himself against the mattress, Harry’s transferred his wand in his left hand, making sure he kept the curtains slightly open in the process. Then, he started to stroke his craving crotch through his pants.

At first, he tried to move slowly and avoid any suspect noise, but soon it wasn’t enough. So, he slid his hand into his pants and wrapped his fingers around his hard-on, sending jolts of pleasure at each stroke.

However, despite his carefulness, he must have let out a noise of some sort, because suddenly, Seamus opened his eyes and jerked toward Harry. His eyes were wide open behind the crooked glasses. Harry froze, his hand still in his pants. He knew he should have run away the moment Seamus had opened his eyes on him, but he couldn’t move. He just couldn’t.

“Dean!” Seamus called in a high pitched yelp before propping to his elbows.

Dean didn’t seem to get the urgency of the situation, because he moaned around Seamus’ dick and fastened the bobbing of his head.

And so, to Harry’s amazement, Seamus whacked Dean on the head. “Dean!”

Startled, Dean let go of Seamus’ dick, which bounced on his stomach. He gaped at Harry, a trickle of saliva still connecting him to Seamus’ cock.

The three of them stood there, taken aback, for what felt like an eternity.

Then, Dean’s eyes widened in horror. He and Seamus exchanged a look and Seamus hurried to tear the glasses off and throw them on the bedside table.

They joined two lightened wands Harry hadn’t noticed before.

Harry honestly didn’t know where to look at, between Seamus’ flush, which was noticeably spreading through his chest and started to reach his nipples; Dean’s gaze, fixed on Harry’s hand in his pants; Seamus’ cock, which kept throbbing against his stomach, visibly leaking pre-come; Dean’s fingers, still buried in Seamus’ ass; or Dean’s hips, which had just started to move again, fucking the mattress.

So Harry did the only thing his brain could come up with: he started to stroke his aching cock again.

Dean did a double take when he saw Harry’s hand moving. Then he smiled, shrugged and bent to resume sucking Seamus off, working his fingers in him again.

Within seconds, Seamus’ breath became irregular. Captivated, Harry watched as Seamus’ features began to crisp from pleasure. He jerked his head back and started to moan, making Dean moan as well.

Harry asked himself if it was a regular thing to do, jerking off while looking at a friend sucking another, but he decided he didn’t care. What harm was there, anyway?

It was way funnier than wanking alone.

“Fuck,” Seamus groaned when he came, deeply buried in Dean’s mouth.

Still stroking his rock hard dick, Harry did his best not to make any embarrassing sound while Dean’s long throat swallowed.

Once Seamus’ body had softened and his hand had let go of Dean’s hair, Dean freed his fingers and wiped them on the sheets. He kissed gently the head of Seamus’ cock and straightened to his knees. He was wearing an Ireland Quidditch t-shirt and…

Holy shit, but Dean was _hung like a Hungarian Horntail_.

Harry’s movements became erratic at the sight.

Seamus sat right up, a wicked grin on the lips, and looked at Harry up and down, sending waves of pleasure through Harry’s body. Then, he cupped Dean’s face and gave him a full-mouthed kiss.

Harry wondered if Seamus could taste himself on his best friend’s tongue.

That’s all it took to led him over the edge. A few pumps later, he was coming in delicious spurts all over his hand.

He bit his lip to avoid making sounds, but he had never been a quiet kind of guy, and anyway, Seamus and Dean were too busy to pay attention to him.

Once the last of his orgasm had left him, he did the only thing he could think of: he wiped his hand on the curtains and ran away.

Lying on his bed a few minutes later, still wondering what the fuck had just happened, Harry realized the snoring had stopped.

For how long, thought, he couldn’t tell.


	2. Chapter 2

Two weeks had passed since Harry had come upon Dean sucking Seamus off.

Two weeks during which the three of them had cleverly ignored the Hippogriff in the room.

Two weeks during which Harry hadn’t been able to think about anything else.

Every night, he looked at the ceiling of his four posted, and pricked up his ears, eagerly waiting for the sound of rustled sheets, soft moans, or cut breathing. Something, _anything_ , that would indicate his friends were doing it again.

And for now, nothing had come.

The morning after the _thing_ , Harry had found his spare glasses, innocently folded on his bedside table. No note attached, no explanation, nothing. He still hadn’t touched them since then.

More than once, he had wondered what the glasses thing had been about.

Perhaps it was a prank. Or Perhaps Dean fancied him. Either way, that made no sense at all. It certainly hadn’t look like a prank. But on the other hand, Dean couldn’t be attracted to him. Harry was a _boy_. The fact that Dean didn’t seem to mind Seamus having a penis was irrelevant.

They were best friends, it was completely different.

Although, come to think of it, Harry was best friends with Ron, and he couldn’t imagine a world where he’d suck him off in the middle on the night. Or the day, for all it’s worth. The thought even made him giggle in the darkness of his four-poster.

But he was no Dean or Seamus.

Maybe it was something they did. Suck each other in the dorms when everyone was asleep. Maybe it was part of an arrangement. Best friends the day and sex-buddies at night. Harry couldn’t blame them. For what he’d seen, their activities seemed much more fun than Harry’s own solo sessions.

And maybe it wasn’t Harry’s business at all. But he couldn’t bring himself to forget what he’d seen. He couldn’t.

Every time he closed his eyes, he could see Seamus’ cock disappearing into Dean’s mouth. He could see Dean’s huge shaft on display after it. He could hear Dean’s panting breathing. He could hear Seamus’ moans as he sucked his come off Dean’s lips. He could…

Wait a minute. He _could_ hear Dean’s panting breathing.

Before Harry knew it, he was up, his invisibility cloak in hand.

He hadn’t thought about what he would do if he heard his friends polishing their wands together again. Mostly he had been curious, but now that they _were_ doing it, there was no way he would have just laid composedly in his bed, listening.

He had to _see_.

He put the Cloak on, sneaked out of his four-poster, and met with an empty dark dorm. Snoring was coming from Ron’s bed, as usual, and the other ones were quiet.

Harry pricked up his ears in the direction of Dean’s and Seamus’ beds, but they were somehow as silent as Binns’ classroom at the best of times. He had made a few steps towards Seamus’ bed when he heard a muffled sound coming from Dean’s.

Dizzy, he closed the distance, not bothering to hide his feet under the cloak. He slightly opened Dean’s curtains and tried to peek inside, but no wand was lightening the scene, this time, and the four-poster was pitch-dark.

Harry wondered if they had thrown a Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder for the sake of discretion, but decided it didn’t mattered anyway.

There was definitely some heavy breathing, but also curious sounds – which sounded very much like moans muffled in a pillow – every now and then. Harry could hear the sheets protesting as – he guessed – they were being seized in pleasure. Twice he heard the sound of – he was sure – a punch in the mattress.

If he pricked up his ears – and, well, he had nothing better to do, had he? –, he could hear some suction sounds. He wondered who was sucking who this time.

The more he stood there, awkwardly hunched under the now-too-short invisibility cloak, his head in the small opening of the curtains, the more his eyes got adapted to the obscurity. He could see two bodies in there. Both of them seamed naked, this time.

The dark-skinned man was on all fours. Harry could see Dean’s head deeply shoved into his pillow. The muscles of his back were rolling as he molested the pillow. His whole body, and especially his hips, was shaking frantically. If Harry hadn’t known better, he would have thought he was in pain.

Harry hadn’t had a good look at Dean’s shaft – not that he wanted to! –, but, from where he stood, he could see Seamus’ hand working it. No. _Caress_ it.

Seamus was crunching on the bed, and had bent towards Dean’s lower back. Harry could see his head jolting behind Dean’s butt.

But what was he doing there? What could he possibly be doing? It looked as though…

Oh, _fuck_ , that was it. Seamus was eating Dean’s ass.

Harry didn’t mean to groan this loud, but he just couldn’t help it.

Seamus was eating his best friend’s ass. He was making these insane sounds – as if he was actually enjoying it! – and Dean was moaning in his pillow. From the sound of it, Dean was having a good time. And after having experienced on himself what he had seen Dean do to Seamus the last time – for the sake of knowledge, mind – Harry could easily imagine what a warm mouth could do _there_. Would he let someone put his mouth there, though? Probably not.

It was both the ickiest and the hottest thing he had ever seen. And he couldn’t take his eyes off it. His eyes were seriously beginning to ache from dehydration, but he couldn’t even resolve to blink.

Harry wondered how in Godric’s name Seamus could do this. He must like his best friend very much to do this selfless gesture, Harry thought.

Harry opened the curtains a bit more and shifted slightly to his left to get a better look. In a completely normal, educational, experimental way that was. Not because he enjoyed watching Seamus’ drool leak over Dean’s hanging balls. Nor the way he could see Seamus’ wet, full, red lips kiss Dean’s hole. Even less the way his tongue was disappearing. Because that would be deviant, right?

According to the sounds Seamus was making, he didn’t seem to find it unpleasant, and that left Harry completely perplexed.

However, he would have plenty of time to wonder about this later on, whereas he had a current problem that wasn’t about to solve itself. He did his best not to make the curtains move and lifted his hand in his pants, his movements made difficult by the weight of the Invisibility Cloak. If the past two weeks had been of any help, they had allowed Harry to make peace with his _wanking at his friends having sex_ thingy. So he decided that if he wanted to toss off at the sight of two young and healthy males (that _unfortunately_ happened to be his friends) eating each other’s ass, it was his business. Cleverly hidden under the Cloak, he would be the only one to ever know.

The show was short-lived, this time.

Seamus moaned – or at least Harry thought he had, the noise being muffled between Dean’s ass cheeks – and Dean came loudly all over his sheets.

 _The very sheets he was going to sleep in later._ Harry’s brain shut down at the thought, and he climaxed under his frantic strokes.

Once lying on his own bed, he replayed the scene in his head.

He was troubled. He couldn’t place the sound he had heard when he had let go of the curtains. Was it someone calling his name?

It must have been his imagination, he decided on the edge of sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

Harry was gay. He was gay _and_ a pervert. A pervert who enjoyed watching his _friends_ doing really gay stuff to each other.

If he was to be honest, the gay thing wasn’t entirely surprising. Not after that _thing_ in the Lion’s locker room back in November. And, since sincerity was his new mantra, well, the pervert thing wasn’t breaking news either. Not after that thing in the locker room.

But, Seamus and Dean were his _friends_ , and Harry couldn’t help but feel a little flustered every time one of them caught his glance, either in class or at the Gryffindor table. Because he couldn’t hear Dean’s laugh without remembering vividly his moans as he sucked Seamus. He couldn’t see Seamus bite in a muffin without seeing his face buried in Dean’s ass. And surely it wasn’t normal to think at your _friends_ that way.

And what were they to one another, anyways? Were they boyfriends? They were acting around each other like they always had, and not for the first time Harry wondered for how long their little game lasted. Both knowing and not knowing was killing Harry.

But that was a question for another time really, because thinking once again about what he’d seen those two times had woken the beast -that was the flip side of having an excellent memory- and now Harry had urgent business to take care of.

He reached for his wand and glasses on the bedside table and lightened his four-poster.

Well, he liked to see, so what?

He casted a Lubrication Charm on his palm and reached for his craving cock. He began to work his hard length slowly, watching as the spongy head disappeared in his fist. Feeling a little adventurous tonight, he spread his legs a little further and ran his slick fingers towards his entrance. His exploration, however, was interrupted as the curtains of his four-poster swung open violently, revealing the two men he had been fantasizing about.

Harry wondered, vaguely horrified, if he had Summoned them without meaning it.

“The fuck?” Harry blurted out in a hoarse voice.

“It’s our turn to watch,” said Dean casually.

“Go ahead, carry on,” Seamus added cheekily.

Seamus’ chest was bare. His stomach was toned and Harry could see the freckles on his broad shoulders. He was wearing red pajamas bottom low on his hips.

Dean was wearing his Harpies shirt and black close-fitting pants that made Harry salivate.

Harry sat straight up and tried to pull the covers on in a self-conscious gesture. Rock hard and completely naked on his bed, he felt exposed and wasn’t sure to enjoy the feeling.

They were both looking at Harry with mischief in the eyes, as if they wanted to eat him alive, and Harry was positive the budges on both their pants weren’t there a moment before.

Seamus was grinning wickedly and Harry saw himself smile in reply.

Dean and Seamus exchanged a look, then, to Harry’s stupor, they both climbed onto the bed, facing him.

For a moment, the three of them stood there, Harry sat on the bed and the other two on their knees.

Within reach.

After a moment, Dean leaned towards Seamus and kissed his shoulder – ant that didn’t look like a friendly gesture at all, to Harry’s opinion. They seemed to communicate wordlessly for a few seconds, and then Dean slid his left hand into Seamus’ pants.

Harry wondered if Seamus had already come from Dean’s mouth before they joined him. He wondered if he had sucked Dean’s hole in return.

After a few heated moans from Seamus’ end, Dean slid down his boxers. His impressive cock was fully hard – or at least, Harry _hoped_ it was –, swollen and darker than the rest of him. Fascinated, Harry watched as Dean wrapped his fingers around the base of his shaft, which was pulsing as if waiting for release.

Naturally, Harry felt the urge to help.

Without thinking of it, stretched his hand towards his friend’s groin. As if reading in his mind, Dean let go of his shaft.

It was weird. Harry had never touched another man’s penis before. Dean’s dick was hot and smooth in his palm, and so, so big. He looked up to meet his friend’s eyes, inhaled deeply and swallowed.

The scent was musky in an overwhelming way, and Harry lost his mind.

He bent and took Dean in his mouth. He didn’t take _all of Dean_ in his mouth, obviously. He didn’t even trust himself to really move around the shaft, so he settled for a light sucking.

Harry had always liked Popsicles, anyway.

Dean’s taste was, well. Not _pleasant_ , but not unpleasant enough for Harry to want to stop. It was bitter, it tasted almost like Harry’s own come – hey, there’s no harm in doing some research – but not quite the same either. Thinking he had his mouth around his _friend’s_ _penis_ made his own cock throb.

From Dean’s throat escaped an incredible hot moan. From Dean’s cock, however, escaped what Harry assumed to be a bit of pre-come. And _this_ was interesting. The taste of it wasn’t as strong as Harry thought it would be. It left, however, a strange feeling on Harry’s tongue, making the swallowing more difficult. He found out, surprisingly, that he quite enjoyed it.

Dean was breathing fast and gasping every time Harry’s tongue stroked the head of his shaft. Harry couldn’t believe that _he_ was the one making his friend do all these noises. He did his best to not choke as he took the impressive prick as far as he could in his mouth, which was, to be honest, not so much.

“Hmmm, Harry,” said Dean, and the sound went straight to Harry’s cock.

Unable to resist any longer, Harry wrapped his fingers round his prick and started to stoke again.

Not trusting his coordination, he drew back a little from Dean’s dick and grabbed his friend’s balls with his other hand. He looked up at Dean, obviously lost in his own pleasure, and then to Seamus at his right, whose cock was being stroked vividly by Dean.  Harry could hear Seamus’ moans, coupled with Dean’s panting breath. He kept on sucking the soft tip of Dean’s cock, squeezing the hairless bollocks while slowly working himself off.

He heard more than he saw Seamus’ come from Dean’s hand.

A hot spurt fell on Harry’s shoulder, but he chose not to pay attention to it as pleasure was starting to boil in his body.

Dean started to shake erratically in his mouth and let out a loud groan and god. Harry was about to cum. He was close. He was…

“YES, HARRY,” shouted Dean.

And suddenly, Dean was coming all over Harry’s chin and chest and Harry had barely had the time to drew back to avoid being spurted on his glasses.

Frustrated, Harry’s balls complained.

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and closed his eyes, trying to catch his breath.

His cock was aching for relief. He wondered if he could just finish what he had started. He wondered if Dean and Seamus would care. He didn’t want to upset them, but now that they had both come, surely they were going to leave, right?

He looked at his friends, searching for an answer.

Dean was a proper mess. He was panting and still gasping every now and then. His legs and arms were visibly shaking and for a moment, Harry worried he was about to crash on him.

Seamus, on the other hand, wore a wicked grin.

Harry’s hand decided for him and started to rub his cock again.

Seamus bent and whispered something to Dean, whose face broke into a grin. Dean nodded several times in a row and Seamus' grin widened.

Harry hoped whatever they had discussed involved his incoming orgasm, because he knew that if he didn’t cum _right now_ he was going to die.

Seamus pushed on Harry’s shoulder and made him lie on his back. The sheets felt cold under Harry’s back and he there was a strange wetness under his ass, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. Seamus, smiling lopsidedly, had taken Harry’s prick in hand. Harry let out a gasp. Seamus’ hand was calloused and so much _not Harry’s_ , it was delicious.

It was even almost embarrassingly delicious. Harry, who had been on the edge for some time now, was seeing the promised relief, as waves of hot pleasure started to spread through his spine.

He felt the mattress move as Dean changed position, and suddenly, Seamus’ hand was gone.

Harry whined. How was he supposed to come if Seamus stopped jerking him off?

But, before he could complain, Dean had bent over his crotch, and kissed right onto his balls.

Holy fuck.

Harry had never had a blow job in his life. Was he going to let _Dean Thomas_ gave him his first one? Dean, his roommate, his friend? Dean, whose mouth had probably been on Seamus’ cock moments before this? Dean, who was a _boy_?

Dean wrapped his fingers around the base of Harry’s cock.

Yes. The answer was yes. Most definitely yes.

The very instant Dean’s full lips closed around his dick, Harry’s mind went blank. He groaned loudly, unable to stop himself. He had never experienced this kind of pleasure before.

The toe-curling sensation was at once too much and yet not enough.

He gasped and struggled not to fist Dean’s hair nor thrust into his mouth. He wasn’t going to be this kind of guy. He wasn’t. But his hips seemed to think otherwise and decided to shake against his will. Dean chuckled and Godric. The vibration went right through his bollocks, making him see stars.

In the meantime, Seamus had begun to lightly suck Harry’s right nipple, and Merlin knows where _this mouth_ had been before.

Harry lost all sense of reality. He was all sensations.

Dean’s hot mouth was honestly the best thing that had ever happened to his cock, and every time Seamus sucked on his nipple, a jolt of pleasure echoed in his crotch.

He didn’t know who had cried, but surely it had to be him, because Seamus and Dean had both their mouths occupied and, anyway, why would they be crying out?

Suddenly, Dean _moaned around his prick_ and that was it.

He climaxed and his brain shut.

When Harry opened his eyes, moments later, Seamus was cuddled under his right arm and Dean under his left.

It sounded as though Seamus and Dean were kissing over his chest, but he couldn’t be sure, as he was unable to open his eyes.

Someone was gently rubbing his stomach, and he felt good. He felt brilliant.


End file.
